


Water Therapy

by mnemosyne23



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF, Lost RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, PWP, Sexy Times, Shower Sex, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:06:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1200589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnemosyne23/pseuds/mnemosyne23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emilie's feeling worn out and grubby after attending a movie premiere.  Dom and Billy help her clean up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Water Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as part of Teffy's [Lost/LotR Couples Ficathon](http://www.livejournal.com/users/teffy/253442.html)

Emilie hated premieres.

The glitz and glamour of the Hollywood lifestyle was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it opened doors of opportunity that the average individual never got to experience: parties, clothes, travel, and of course money. On the other hand, it left a person with very little time to themselves. When you weren't filming you were promoting, when you weren't promoting you were hobnobbing, and when you weren't hobnobbing you were trying to fit in some much needed sleep. Sure, there were lull periods throughout the year, but for the most part every minute of an actor's life was… well, scripted.

Emilie enjoyed the glamorous atmosphere, but at the same time she dreaded the aftereffects. Tonight she had attended a premiere for some horrible romantic comedy produced by Disney's Touchstone studios, starring people she didn't know against a backdrop she didn't care about. She'd attended to show some studio unity, but she would have preferred to stay at home and read a book, wrapped in an afghan on her living room couch. It was fun to smile for the cameras, sign autographs for eager fans, and field questions about _Lost_ and her other projects, but at the same time it was hard to be that outgoing for that long when you really wanted to be somewhere else.

She'd snuck out of the movie halfway through, leaving secretly by the back entrance which was kept free of paparazzi for precisely that reason. A waiting taxi had driven her to the secluded bungalow in the Hollywood hills that she called home when she wasn't in Hawaii. Feeling spent and frail, she'd trudged up the front steps, fiddled her key in the lock and stepped into the house, expecting to spend the rest of the night cuddled up in her PJs on the couch -- or better yet, in bed -- listening to Ella Fitzgerald and eating ridiculous amounts of chocolate.

But instead of a quiet, cozy night at home, she'd walked right into a rugby match.

Or something akin to that; certainly something loud, aggressive, and masculine. The foyer was tidy enough, but judging by the racket coming from the living room, that was going to be the exception to the rule. Kicking off her shoes, she plodded down the brief hallway, staring in awe at the coordinated chaos in the kitchen: a sink piled high with dishes, cupboards hanging open, table covered in pizza boxes. "I'm going to kill him," she said in breathless awe, shaking her head as she watched one poorly-balanced pizza box tumble off the edge of the table to land, pizza-side down, on the tile floor.

Moving further down the hall, as if in a dream, she paused in the archway that led into her living room and stared at the action within. The back of the couch faced towards her, so the two men sitting on it didn't see that she'd arrived. What snacks weren't in the kitchen were strewn about on every table surface in the living room; the coffee table was piled so high with chip bags and salsa dip, she couldn’t see a sliver of pine. Her high definition big screen TV -- one of her few electronic indulgences -- was tuned to something that looked like boxing.

Just as Emilie was about to speak up, one of the fighters must have dealt the other a massive blow, because the one of the two men on the couch erupted with cheers. "YES!" Dom exclaimed, leaping off the couch and thrusting one hand into the air, clutching a bottle of Guinness. "THAT is what is called a knockout!"

"Not so fast there, Dommeh," Bill said, tugging on the other man's pant leg. "He's getting up, ye see that?"

"Oh, bollocks to that. Stay down!"

"Get up!"

"Stay down!"

"Up!"

"DOWN!"

"What. Are. You. DOING?" Emilie broke in, voice choked with equal parts anger, confusion and disappointment.

Dom spun around, eyes wide with surprise. "Emilie!" he exclaimed. He suddenly remembered the bottle in his hand and quickly lowered his arm, tucking it behind his back. "You're home!"

"I said you could stay with me while you were in L.A., _Dominic_ ," she said through gritted teeth, and he winced when she used his full name. "I did NOT say you could turn my home into your own personal bachelor pad!"

"Em, it's not like that," he protested.

She crossed her arms angrily across her stomach. "No? Then what _is_ it like, Dominic? Because judging by the beer, chips, nachos and salsa lying around, I'd be inclined to believe I'm in the wrong damn house, considering _I_ didn't leave any of this here when I left."

"Dom invited me over to watch the game, Emilie," Billy spoke up from the couch. He'd gotten up on his knees to look at her over the back of the couch. "Es not his fault, all this. I'm equally ta blame."

She'd have been willing to forgive them both from the pitiful puppy dog eyes he was giving her, if the crowd on the TV behind them hadn't chosen that moment to erupt in cheers as the fighters traded fresh blows. "I don't _bloody_ care who's to blame!" she said, pinning him with a murderous glare. "I've spent the last few hours being polite to annoying reporters, hugging people I've never met, pretending I've seen everyone's movies and watched everyone's shows, and acting as if there was nowhere else in the world I'd rather be than in that theater watching that movie with those people. I've been pawed and mauled and touched by people I'd rather never meet again and my feet hurt because these stupid _bloody_ shoes are half a size too small. I come home, expecting to curl up and relax in a nice, quiet atmosphere, and what do I find? _THIS!_ "

Billy looked properly chastised, but Dom said, "Em, I told you I was going to watch the fight with Bill-"

" _With_ Bill, Dom, _with!_ That's the important word in that sentence, you idiot! I thought you were going to watch it at his hotel, not here! You should have asked me first!" Dom's ears reddened satisfactorily, but Emilie's anger was just beginning to boil. "Look at this place. Look at it! I can't even describe what a mess it is -- I'd need to invent a whole new word! God _dammit_ , Dom, I thought you knew better than this!"

Dom looked down, unable to meet her gaze. "Em… I'm sorry," he said softly, looking up at her through the fringe of his bangs. "Luv-"

"Don't _Luv_ me, Dominic Monaghan," she growled, cutting him off. "I'm going upstairs now, to my bedroom. I'm going to get out of these clothes, take a shower, and go to bed. If you even _think_ you're going to get to join me tonight, then you're more of an idiot than I thought."

Spinning on her heel, she stormed out of the room, leaving them blinking in her wake.

 

\-------------------------

 

"Bastard!" Emilie snarled, slamming her bedroom door behind her and throwing her purse at the wall. It impacted with a satisfying _thump!_ , then tumbled to the floor and spilled its contents across the rug. _Great, one more mess to clean up,_ she fumed, angrily stooping down to shove her flotsam and jetsam back into the bag. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away. It wasn't fair; she'd been looking forward to relaxing in bed, maybe lighting a few candles, maybe staying up until Dom got back from Bill's hotel, maybe leaving her door open and wearing the skimpy black negligee he liked so much…

But no. He had to go and ruin it all, the big clod. And Billy! What was his excuse, hmm? Dominic was known to go overboard, but Bill was usually a voice of reason; Emilie had seen it with her own eyes. She found it alluring, actually, that the Scotsman could have such an immediate effect on Dom with just the sound of his voice. Not that she'd ever say anything to either of them, of course, but she had a bit of a crush on the charming Scot; which made his involvement in this whole thing all the more disappointing. If Dom was her dashing prince, Bill was supposed to be her trusty knight; and they'd both failed her.

Yanking her dress off over her head, she threw it onto a nearby chair and stalked into the bathroom, staring at her red eyes in the mirror. "Stop crying," she snapped at herself. "It's not worth it. Stop it. Stop it!"

Turning away, she yanked off her bra and threw it into the white wicker hamper in the corner of the bathroom. Shoving down her knickers, she threw them in to join the bra then wrapped a fluffy white towel around herself, stomping out into the bedroom in search of her pajamas.

"DOM!" she yelped, wrapping her arms around herself protectively despite the ample coverage of her towel. "What are you doing here?"

He was sitting on the bed, looking unhappy. "I wanted to apologize, Em," he said plaintively. "I hate it when we fight, you know that. I- are you crying?"

Emilie ran a hand quickly under her eyes. "No," she lied.

Dom's face creased with concern. "You are, aren't you." It wasn't a question. "Bollocks, I've really done it, haven't I? I'm such a lousy, good for nothing…"

He stood up and crossed the brief space between them. Wrapping his arms around her, he pressed his face into her hair. "I'm sorry, Emilie," he murmured, stroking her back. Despite her best intentions, Emilie found herself twining her own arms around his waist and holding him tightly, rubbing her cheek against his chest. "I've been a complete wanker. I didn't mean it; please forgive me? You can do whatever you want, but please don't be angry at me anymore. I hate it when you're angry."

"That goes for the both of us." Emilie raised her head, looking quickly to the side to find Billy leaning in the bedroom door, eyes grim. "Ye know we both want ye ta be happy."

Emilie felt a blush spread across her body and she cuddled closer to Dom, uncomfortably aware of how naked she was beneath her towel. "You should have thought of that before you turned my house into a fraternity," she said, but without the venom she'd intended. "Dom I could almost understand, but you're supposed to have more sense than that, Billy."

"Hey," Dom protested. "Are you trying to say I'm not sensible?"

"The lady's got a point, Dommeh," Billy said with a small smile. "You're not exactly known for being level-headed."

"And you are?"

"More than ye, tha's for certain."

"Obviously not enough people have heard about the time you got drunk outside Wellington and went streaking through the streets at four in the morning."

Emilie couldn't stop herself from giggling at their banter; they always said the funniest things when they were together. Billy's eyes twinkled at the sound. "Tha's what we like ta hear," he said. "Ye have such a sweet laugh, Em; we hate it when ye use that voice for yelling."

"You talk as if you shared a brain," she teased, feeling more at ease in their mutual presence.

"Sometimes I think we do," Billy admitted.

"That'd explain my inexplicable obsession with porridge," Dom assented.

Emilie smiled, pressing her face into Dom's throat. "You're the most frustrating man alive sometimes, Dominic Monaghan," she sighed, closing her eyes and running her fingers idly up and down his spine. "If you weren't drop-dead gorgeous, I'd have booted you out ages ago."

"I guess it's lucky I'm so sexy, eh?"

"Mmm…"

Emilie could feel her anger ebbing away, giving way to a calmer sense of contentment. Dom's scent was warm and comforting, and his hands on her back and in her hair were soothing. She felt her muscles loosening slowly, and she could have fallen asleep there in his arms if she hadn't realized that he couldn't have his fingers on her back _and_ in her hair unless he'd somehow grown a second pair of hands.

Raising her head, she opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder, alarmed to find Billy combing his fingers through her hair. He met her eyes calmly. "Hello," he murmured.

"Billy…?" Her voice was shaking slightly and she curled her fingers tighter in Dom's shirt, raising her eyes to find the other man's face. "Dom?"

"Shhh, sweet," Dom whispered, voice low and gravelly. Nuzzling her cheek, he dropped a soft kiss on her lips. "Like I said, I want to apologize to you properly. Anything you want." He pressed their foreheads together. "And I know you want Bill."

Emilie blinked. "I…What are you talking about?" she stammered nervously. Billy's fingers were still in her hair and she was finding it difficult to speak.

"You talk in your sleep," Dom answered.

Emilie frowned at him. "What?"

"You talk in your sleep. Not all the time, mind; just when you're dreaming really vividly." He gave her a disarmingly charming smile. "And you have some wonderfully vivid dreams, luv."

She blushed bright red. "Dom…" She looked down, embarrassed.

He tilted her chin back up, meeting her eyes with his own gentle gaze. "Don't be ashamed, luv," he said, running his thumb over her lips. "I love listening to you have conversations with yourself. Sometimes you say my name." He smiled broadly, as if remembering. "Sometimes you moan it." Here he moved his hand down her arm, squeezing her hand against his chest. "Sometimes you moan other names, too." This time he raised his eyes to lock gazes with Billy over her shoulder. "Lately you've been doing that a lot. Do you want to guess whose name you've been saying the most, or shall I just tell you?"

Billy leaned against her back, warm and inviting, and she closed her eyes as a soft _"Oh…"_ breathed past her lips. "Dom told me a while ago, Emilie," he murmured near her ear, and the proximity of that richly accented voice made her whimper quietly; it seemed to touch every pleasure center from her skin down to her core. "Told me some of the naughty things those sweet lips of yours have said about me." He sighed shakily, and she realized that he wasn't just leaning on her to be alluring; he was doing it to hold himself upright. "Ye don't know what that did ta me, sweeting. Ye don't know how much I've wanted ta touch ye, sleep next ta ye, hear those things for myself." His fingers grazed down her sides, and even through the plush thickness of the terry towel, his touch felt like fire.

"It'd kill me ta think of ye dreaming angry dreams about me, Emilie," he whispered by her ear, and she could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t saying it to be trite; he meant it. "Let me make it up ta ye. Say yes." His lips touched the side of her neck and she gasped, tilting her head to the side reflexively to give him easier access. "Say yes…"

Emilie moaned softly. This was too much; Billy was pressed against her back, Dom at her front; even her naughtiest dreams had never felt this good. But… no. This was wrong. This sort of thing… it wasn't supposed to happen. It was _wrong_.

"I… I don't know…" she faltered, trying to rein in her out-of-control endorphins. "We… This isn't right…"

"Emilie."

Dom's clear voice made her open her eyes and look up. He was watching her with staggering tranquility. "You know how you joked Bill and I share a brain?" he murmured, and she nodded faintly. "That means we share a lot of things, yeah? Things we like, things we don't like. Things we've done together. Things we love…"

He ran his fingers over her cheek and Emilie let her eyes flutter shut, leaning into the touch.

"Don't say we're not both allowed to love you," he whispered near her ear, his gravelly voice making her shiver. "Neither of us is a liar. Don't make us start now."

He kissed her. Emilie moaned, sliding her hands up over his shoulders to wrap her arms around his neck. A soft whimper escaped into his mouth as she felt Billy's lips against her shoulder, soft and assured and so much more practiced than Dom's tumbling kisses or her own youthful tasting. She found herself wondering if he did everything with such studied care.

"Yes, Dom," she murmured against his mouth before leaning her head back to rest on Bill's shoulder. "Yes, Bill. Your apologies, everything… I accept." She met Bill's gaze, green and hopeful. "Yes."

 

\------------------------------

 

They wanted her in the bed, but she told them no: the shower. She still felt grubby, after all, and to enjoy this she wanted to feel clean. She watched them undress as she sat primly on the edge of the bed, trying not to admit how thrilling it was to see each new inch of bared skin, be it Dom's familiar abdomen or Billy's exotic new hips. When Dom got tangled in his t-shirt -- no doubt excited to get down to business -- Billy amiably helped him along, and Emilie wondered just what Dom had meant when he'd said _Things we've done together._ Just what kinds of things? Billy's fingers certainly seemed familiar with Dom's gangly limbs, and Dom didn't seem the least uncomfortable when the Scotsman's fingers grazed over his ribs.

She rubbed her thighs together, refusing to bite her lip in anticipation. All those questions could wait until later; tomorrow was going to be a day for talking. Tonight was all about action.

At last they stood in front of her, naked and unabashedly proud of it. "Well, what do you think?" Dom asked, flexing his arms manfully. "Not bad, eh?"

"She's seen ye before, Dommeh," Billy said, crossing his arms across his toned stomach. "If you're expecting her ta be impressed, you're going ta be disappointed, lad."

"So says you."

"Es a fact of life."

"Again, so says you."

"Shut up," Emilie said with a grin, bringing their attention back to her. "If you're trying to get me to say one of you is more impressive than the other, it's not going to work."

"Can't choose, luv?" Dom asked.

"No, not that. You're both so sensitive, I wouldn't want to hurt anyone's feelings." She smiled impishly.

"I think she's challenging us, Dom," Bill said, arching an eyebrow.

"I think you're right, Bill," Dom agreed, nodding.

"How shall we react?"

"Best way to answer a challenge is to meet it, Bills."

"Very true, very true. Ye first or me?"

"Why don't you unwrap her, Bill, it being you're first time and all. I'll get the water ready."

"Excellent suggestion," Billy agreed with a quick nod.

Dom grinned, and knelt quickly beside the bed. "I'll warm up the water," he murmured, brushing a quick kiss across Emilie's lips. "Don't do anything without me." He winked, then leapt to his feet, darting into the bathroom.

Emilie watched him go, a fond smile on her lips, before bringing her attention back to Billy. The Scotsman was standing in front of her, and while she should have found his presence intimidating, she found she wasn't nervous at all. Excited, yes; eager, certainly. But nervous? The only butterflies in her stomach were from anticipation.

"Any worries?" Bill asked her quietly, echoing her internal monologue, and Emilie had to wonder if he could read her thoughts.

She shook her head, giving him a half-smile. "None," she murmured, leaning back on her hands and gazing up into his face. Both he and Dom were sporting stubble and she found it ridiculously sexy; particularly coupled with the weave of red hair on his chest.

Bill arched an eyebrow at her, while in the bathroom the sound of water running met their ears. "You've got a man who's basically a stranger standing naked in front of ye, ready to ravage ye like a pirate, luv," he reminded her. "Ye sure ye don't mind?"

Emilie let her gaze soften. "You're not a stranger, Bill," she murmured, reaching out to lay her hand on his hip to show she meant it. "And I've wanted this for too long."

She watched his golden-green eyes darken as her fingers moved forward, brushing over his erect cock before falling away. "Dom told me ye were a temptress," he said huskily, reaching out to run his fingers through her hair. "He wasn’t lying."

Emilie turned her head to the side, kissing his wrist in answer.

Billy growled quietly and she felt his free hand tug at her towel. It came free easily, falling away and leaving her naked on the bed before him. His fingers tightened in her hair and when she looked at his face again, she saw that his eyes had gone from dark to desperate. "Oh… Christ, luv, this es too much," he murmured, sliding down to his knees in front of her, laying one hand on her bare stomach, staring in awe at the interplay of his tanned fingers against her pale skin. "Shite…"

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to the hollow between her breasts, and Emilie let her head fall backward with a moan, enjoying the rasp of his whiskers against her sensitive breasts.

Suddenly there was heat behind her, and the bed was tilting, and Dom's voice was whispering in her ear, "I thought I said don't do anything without me."

Emilie whimpered as it finally crystallized in her mind that she was about to get everything she'd ever wanted.

 

\--------------------------

 

They carried her into the bathroom, her legs around Billy's hips, Dom's arms around her waist. She wasn't sure who was kissing her nor which one was sucking determinedly on the side of her neck, and she didn't want to know; she kept her eyes closed to preserve the mystery. As they stepped into the elegant, glass-enclosed steam shower, Emilie gasped when Dom moved away and the water hit her back. If there was one thing Emilie liked to indulge in, it was a nice, hot shower. The unit she'd had installed could function as a standard shower, a steam shower, a whirlpool bath or a water massage. Dom had turned on the multi-head shower unit, and the water pulsed against her back in rhythmic waves.

"Put your feet down, luv," Dom said and she opened her eyes to find both men watching her. "Else we'll never get you clean."

Emilie nodded, quite beyond speech. Billy pressed her against the wall and she moaned, lowering her feet till she could stand on her own accord. Her fingers clutched at him as he stepped away and he brought them to his lips, kissing her knuckles and her palms before letting her go.

"Isn't she gorgeous, Bills," Dom mused quietly, ignoring the water that soaked his stomach as the Scot stood beside him. "Doesn't she look like fucking Venus on a goddamn halfshell?"

"Aye, that she does, Dom," Bill agreed, nodding, green eyes raking up and down her body. "Edible."

Emilie felt her knees tremble under the weight of their combined gaze, and she decided it was time to retake control of the situation; time to make _their_ knees weak. "Glad to hear it," she said, pushing away from the wall. "But I thought you were going to clean me up. Was that just an empty promise, Dom?" She clucked her tongue, snatching up a buff puff from a natural shelf built into the contours of the roomy cubicle. "Guess I'll have to take matters into my own hands." Snapping open the cap of her favorite scented body wash, she poured a liberal amount onto the sponge, squeezed it a few times to get it nice and foamy, then stepped back into the steamy stream of water and proceeded to buff.

Emilie knew she had them from the first swipe of the sponge over her belly. Ducking her head under the water, she dared a look at them and saw their eyes pinned to her body, afraid to blink. Grinning at this natural power, she deliberately rubbed the sponge over her breasts, using her other hand to sluice water down her body to rinse away the foam. This was her idea of heaven: a hot shower with two pairs of eager eyes watching her. It didn't get much better than this.

Until she felt a familiar pair of hands on her hips, holding her still as a second body joined her under the water. "You know I love you wet," Dom panted against her lips, pulling her closer. "Are you nice and wet, my Emilie luv?"

Moaning softly, she indulged in a long, luxurious kiss, letting her tongue explore the comfortable hollows and ridges of his mouth. "Dripping," she whispered, letting the sponge tumble from her hands as she burrowed her fingers in his hair, now soaking wet as well.

He groaned, fingers sliding back from her hips to grip her bottom tightly. "I want you," he muttered, burying his face in her shoulder, sucking and biting and nipping desperately. "Fuck, I want you…"

"Dom…" she moaned, arching her neck for him, fingers tugging at his hair.

Then there was someone behind her and Emilie cried out as Billy's hands slid between them, curling around her breasts and squeezing. Looking over her shoulder, eyes glazed with need, she saw the water pour through his hair and down his face, making the Scotsman look somehow feral and wanton, like the blood in her own veins. "He wants ye, Emilie," he murmured, kneading her breasts and making her gasp. "Neither of us can say no ta our Dommeh, eh? We give him anything he wants. We love him that much, don't we? Ye and I… We share the things we love, too. Aye?" She nodded, though she'd have agreed with anything he said at the moment, so long as he agreed to keep touching her with his guitar-calloused fingers.

When his hands dropped from her breasts she bit her lip to mask her moan of disappointment. Then she felt his fingers grip the backs of her thighs and her breath caught in her throat. She leaned back against the Scot, eyes closing as Dom's mouth moved across her collarbone and the tops of her breasts. "We give him what he wants," Billy repeated in her ear, his chin resting on her shoulder as he leaned back against the shower wall. "Shall we give ye ta him, Emilie? Shall we give ye ta our Dommeh?"

"Yes," she whispered, gasping as Dom's mouth found her nipple and began to suck. "Oh yes…"

"Up ye go then," Billy urged, tugging on her thighs. Dom's hands tightened on her buttocks, lifting her, and Emilie found her legs curling around his waist from instinct. Dom's belly moved against her own, but rather than the cold marble of the shower wall against her back, she had Billy's warm, wet skin. Oh… fuck, this was too gorgeous. This was more than she could handle.

Her head lolled on Billy's shoulder and she keened as Dom pressed into her, clawing her fingers down his back and pressing her heels into him to force him deeper faster. "Hurry," she panted, already rocking her hips. "Now, Dom… Give it to me NOW…!"

"Shhh, sweet," Dom panted against her throat, moaning as he finished pushing into her. "Oh fuck… Let me feel you…"

_We give him what he wants_. Billy's words echoed in her ears and she tilted her head to the side, gazing at the Scotsman's profile. He had his head resting against the shower wall, eyes closed, Adam's apple bobbing as he fought for control. Emilie could feel his erection pressing into her thigh and knew this must be a kind of sweet torture for him. Out of sympathy, she pressed a kiss to his jaw.

Dom moaned, and she realized he was watching her. "Kiss him," Dom rasped. "Bill, kiss her."

Billy opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at her. A soft smile played on his lips. "Luv?"

Emilie nodded dreamily.

His kiss was warm and soft and wet and hungry; he seemed to devour her lips like bread and honey to a starving man. She wanted to ask him how long he'd wanted to kiss her; if he'd ever imagined their first kiss would be like this. But her mouth was too full of his tongue, and her own tongue was doing too much exploring of its own, to bother with questions.

"Oh yes," Dom moaned, and started to thrust into her. Emilie moaned into Bill's mouth and the Scotsman took that as his cue to kiss her harder, his fingers squeezing her thighs, holding them immobile as Dom rocked against her. "Fuck yes… Kiss him deeper, Em. Don't play with him; take him."

Dom's voice was like magic. Emilie's hips started rocking fiercely as her mouth engulfed Bill's completely. She kept one arm wrapped around Dom's shoulders, hand splayed against his back, feeling water roll down her arm and between her fingers; but the other hand she slid down behind her to wrap around Billy's cock, squeezing with a slippery fist.

Billy tore his mouth away from hers with a wordless cry, the back of his head colliding with the wall of the shower as his eyes rolled back in his head. "Fuuuuuck…!" he groaned, hips moving back and forth as he thrust into her hand. She felt him spread his legs to steady himself. "Emilie, god…"

"She does that," Dom panted, taking advantage of her free mouth to run his tongue over her lips. "She owns you." He kissed her fiercely, and Emilie drank in the taste of him, still addictive after all this time. His thrusts were picking up speed; she knew he was close. "Mmmm, you're nobody's toy, are you, Emmy?" he moaned against her mouth. "Do you know how much I love you? Gahhh!"

"Love you, too," Emilie moaned, and she arched her back as his orgasm hit and he slammed into her, driving her back against Billy so that the top of her head pressed against the marble wall. Her hand tightened on the Scot's cock and she heard him groan. "Come on… Come on, Billy," she panted, still rocking her hips, desperate for friction. "Come on, love…"

Dom's fingers stole between them to rub her clit and she cried out, but it was muffled by his mouth as he kissed her again. She sucked on his tongue, desperate for him, thrilling to his wet skin against her own. Behind her, Billy was making delightful whimpers of desperation. "Please," he begged against her shoulder. "Please, Emilie, please…"

She pulled her lips away from Dom's, gasping, and tilted her head so she could kiss Billy's cheek. "I love you, Bill," she whispered breathlessly. "I love you so much…"

He pressed his forehead against her shoulder and choked out her name as his orgasm hit; she felt his warmth against the back of her thigh. She smiled against his temple, kissing him gently before carefully releasing his softening cock and taking his hand from her thigh. Guiding his fingers down her belly, she placed his hand on top of Dom's. "Ohhhh yes," she moaned, shuddering with pleasure as Billy's fingers joined Dom's, rubbing her firmly. Her back arched again and she wiggled her toes, feeling the pressure building to a crescendo in her belly. "Yes, please… Oh please please please…!"

"Almost there," Dom soothed, kissing her cheek.

"We're not going ta let ye go, luv," Billy murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth.

Emilie was quivering between them, desperate for the release she knew was imminent. In a moment of stunning clarity, she pictured what they must look like in this moment: three travelers from all over the globe stranded in a city as vapid and lonely as Los Angeles, huddled together in her designer shower. She'd started the night surrounded by people who pretended to know her name, and now she was finishing it sandwiched securely between two men who said it like a prayer.

Her orgasm hit like a lightning strike: no warning and powerful. "YES!" she wailed, bucking between them once, twice, then squirming as the aftershocks shook her to the soles of her feet. "Oh yes… yes yes YES…!"

She heard Dom suck in a breath as her body squeezed his flaccid cock; felt Billy's teeth press into her shoulder. Whimpering, not sure what to do with her hands, she hugged herself, hoping they understood she intended the gesture for them.

The water pattered around and over them, and for several minutes it was the only sound outside of their fitful breathing.

"I love you," someone finally murmured. Emilie didn't know who, and didn't care.

 

\------------------------------

 

They took turns drying each other off. Emilie giggled as the two men snapped each other with her damp towels, then squealed as they turned on her to deliver similar retribution. She would have darted from the room but Dom was too fast for her and snatched her up into his arms. "Gotcha," he said, grinning as he pecked her on the lips.

Emilie smiled dreamily, resting her head on his shoulder as he carried her out of the steamy bathroom and into the relatively cool air of her bedroom. Bill preceded them, towel swathed haphazardly around his hips, and Emilie felt her lips twist in wry amusement at the touch of modesty; she found it endearing.

Billy tugged down the blankets on her lushly appointed bed and Dom laid her out on the smooth, crisp sheets. They felt cool and seductively dry to her moist skin. Emilie giggled as Dom stretched out beside her, and she felt the bed tilt as Billy climbed on behind her. "I feel like Cleopatra," she said, stretching languidly as the Scot pulled the blankets up over the three of them. "All kinds of decadent."

"Would you like us to feed you grapes?" Dom teased, tickling her beneath the blankets. She laughed and slapped his hands away.

"Or give ye baths of ass's milk," Bill said, nuzzling the back of her neck.

"Why ass's milk?" Dom wondered aloud as Emilie snuggled between them. "I've never understood that. Why not goat milk or cow milk or yak milk or whatever they had in Egypt."

"They had ass's, Dom. They used ass milk."

"Why are they called _asses_ anyway?"

"I imagine because ye sit your ass on them."

"You think?"

"Can ye think of a better reason?"

Emilie laughed. "You two are insane," she cooed, reaching behind her to grab Bill's arm and pull it around her waist to join Dom's. "I love you."

Billy sighed against her shoulder. "Ye've no idea how long I've wanted ta hear ye say that, luv," he mumbled sleepily. She felt him spread his fingers against her belly, and smiled.

Dom kissed her nose. "Sweet dreams, Em," he murmured, rubbing her hip. Her eyes were closed, but she could picture the smile on his face as he said, "After all this, I expect you'll be reciting a novel tonight."

Her pride told her to take him down a notch or two; but she told her pride to shove it.

"I think you're right," she agreed, and kissed him, finding his lips by memory. "Take notes. You can tell me what I said while I watch you scrub the kitchen tomorrow."

He groaned. She grinned. Billy giggled.

She could live with this.

 

**THE END**


End file.
